Living A Lie

Chapter One: Tired of Living a Lie

I stand in the kitchen of my well-furnished home gazing at a pile of dirty cookware arranged inside the sink like a mountain.

Sunlight pours in from large windows and brightens the shining surfaces and the magnificent interior.

It seems to me, however, all that reflects is my exhaustion. With a little extra oomph behind my elbow, I scrub at the stubborn stain that has made a really annoying grease mark. My mind is a jumble of thoughts that have been avoided for far too long.

Every rattle of the plates has the ring of my frustration, a reminder of the life I wanted, the reality I live. This isn't what I wanted. I thought marrying Noah would translate into a life full of love, partnership, not servitude.

"Noah," I call, trying to modulate my voice as I wipe my hands on a dishtowel. "Can we talk?

He sits in the living room, staring at a laptop in front of him, surrounded by remains of a life that is supposed to be our dream. “I don't have the time now, I am busy” he says without raising his head up.

The frustration rises in me. "No, it can't wait. I'm tired of this, Noah. I'm tired of living like this-like your personal maid. I thought marrying you would mean a life full of love and joy, not endless chores and being treated like a slave.

Finally, he looks up-irritation is dancing across his features. “Is there anything you can do about it? Remember your family married you to me and you were happy about it. I am paying your family bills, so you should find joy doing that”

My heart races at the words, truth cutting deeper than I had expected. ”Noah, is this what you have to say? Is this what you will say? I want a partner, someone who would love me and cherish me. I am not looking to be a maid to a master, and marriage is never like that”

“You have everything you need. Isn't that enough? Something your family would never have in the next twenty years” he says, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, “You wanted luxury, this is the price you have to pay for it”

“And is this luxury? It's no luxury when I have no freedom” mu voice breaks, as my eyes brim over. “I feel trapped in a golden cage. I thought you would love me, cherish me, but that's not it. What I feel is loneliness all the time”

Noah exhales loudly, leans back into his chair, arms crossed, bracing himself for a storm. "You're being melodramatic, Rachel. You don't want me to remind you of how we got married right? Do you want me to?”

My heart races, as this is the word I dislike to hear from him. "I can't believe you would say that," I say with a barely above whisper. "I thought you loved me."

"I never approach you and tell you that I love you" he says back, gaze drifting to the screen again. "You have a comfortable life. Focus on that.

My grip tightens, as I try finding words to say to him, “No…. Noah”

“When you are done with the dishes, I need you on bed”

I turn away, my heart heavy, and immediately at war with sadness and anger. I storm out of the kitchen into our bedroom-the sanctuary that now feels like my jail. As I close the door behind me, I lean on it, taking deep breaths to steady myself.

At this moment, the walls are coming in. The mollycoddling, excessive detailing of the environment surrounding me, taunts me. What have I done? I have sold my dreams for security, and now I am a ghost in my own life, haunted by what could've been.

I sit on the bed, my heart racing with a mixture of determination and despair. This needs to change. But as the echoes of our conversation replay in my mind, I don't know if it's courage that separates me from Noah's cage.